


It Became A Passtime

by Wrote_My_Own_Deliverance



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander Hamilton Being an Asshole, Anal Sex, Bisexual Alexander Hamilton, Bottom John Laurens, Dom Marquis de Lafayette, Domestic Fluff, Drabble Collection, Fluff and Smut, Gay John Laurens, Gay Sex, Gay as hell, M/M, Mild Kink, Multi, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamorous Alexander Hamilton, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, poly-gay trio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 02:11:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15786816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrote_My_Own_Deliverance/pseuds/Wrote_My_Own_Deliverance
Summary: Basically just a collection of smut and other drabble-y nonsense. Comments make my world go 'round. Open to requests.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a college AU that doesn't correspond to any of my other works. I just love me some trio and wanted to set up a smutty night for the three boys.

“I’m gonna fail, that’s it, I’m gonna fucking fail.” John sighed, his knees tucking reflexively to his chest as he groaned at the world in general.

Lafayette reached around him for the half-full bottle of something red and strong and refilled his wine glass.

“We are as prepared as we can hope to be.” Lafayette told him.

“You know, you might be more confident if you’d actually study instead of crying and getting drunk.” Alexander tutted, glancing over his textbook, over his glasses, highlighter poised in his hand. 

John noticed how sexy it was when Alex’s glasses slipped to the tip of his nose. He gulped at his wine.

Lafayette rolled his eyes, “no one here is crying. Be kind, Alexander, and, besides, studies are finding that cramming is not beneficial.”

“I’m not cramming, I’m just still studying.” Alex took a casual swig from his beer. 

“Hey, brainiac, why don’t you pay attention to us?” John leaned back into Lafayette and kicked a foot over to toe Alexander’s book shut, leaving his foot in Alex’s lap, his sock-covered toes running over his crotch where the book had been. 

Alex made an appalled face, “John, I'm studying!”

“Fine, so be it,” John shrugged and tipped his chin up, kissing the wine off Lafayette’s lips. 

Distracted in each other, they heard Alexander take another drink from his amber bottle and set it down hard on the coffee table along with his book. He crawled over John’s body and pressed his lips against his exposed throat, teeth grazing his Adam’s Apple. This set off the ricochet of John moaning into Lafayette’s mouth and Lafayette gripping Alex by his hair, probably harder than he would have if it had been intended to be sexy, but that was enough for Alex to find it even more erotic. The game was on.

Alexander chuckled darkly at the pull on his hair, the pain igniting something within him. Lafayette’s steel grip chipping at the flint of his arousal. He took it out on John, hand trailing over his abs, hips dropping low to ride against the freckled man’s to make him more desperate for Lafayette. 

Lafayette pulled away from John’s mouth and quirked a brow at Alex, “ah, ah, I thought you were busy, cher.”

Alex scoffed at him, “I could get eight percent on this final and still make it out with ninety-two percent, I’ve done the math. I can skip some studying.” 

Lafayette gripped his hair tighter and tugged his head roughly away from John’s throat, repeating himself, “I thought you were too busy.”

“I'm never too busy to screw.” Alexander promised, sounding almost needy. 

“Laf.” John moaned pathetically, wanting Alex’s attentions back, his hips rolling with need. 

Lafayette shushed him and pulled him into his lap so they they were facing one another. John whimpered at the strain on his cock at this angle. Alex rolled his eyes in frustration, his body still hovering over the ghost of where John’s had been on the couch moments earlier. 

“That is right, my baby. We’ll let Alexander do his studying since he is so busy, I can take care of you, chou. Take care of you, pleasure you.” He looked over John’s shoulder at Alex, a cunning smirk on his wine-stained lips.

John’s lips fell apart in a dopey grin, “take me to bed, Laf?”

“That would be my pleasure.” Lafayette and John stood up. 

“Bring the bottle.” John moved in his lithe, spritely fashion though his toes merely drug forward, never leaving the floor for the length of the hallway in their little apartment they’d gotten over the summer after proving that there was no way to fit three grown men in a dorm bed. 

Lafayette grabbed the wine bottle by the neck and followed John, laughing at how heavy the drink made his lover, affecting his gravity. Lafayette realized that he, too, was drunker than he thought. This was the third bottle he and John had split, and even being very tall and very French, the wine was catching up with him. He was warm and his mind felt fuzzy at the edges, opening him up enough to fully feel his want. 

John giggled, reaching to open the bedroom door, Lafayette came up behind him and caught him into his broad grasp, making him squeal in surprise. John struggled to get the door open with Lafayette’s arm snaking across his chest like a seat belt, the other one found the handhold of his cut hipbone and jerked his ass against him. He desperately got the door open after having considered throwing a shoulder when he became too enamored with Laf’s touch - the feel of his hard cock pressing where his ass cheeks met - to remember how doorknobs worked.

Lafayette used the leverage of John’s forward momentum to toss him onto the bed. John yelped, he was sure that he’d never get used to how easily Lafayette could maneuver him, they were built similarly, Lafayette with his dancer’s grace, John only just shorter, slightly broader, but when inspired, Lafayette could toss him like a rag doll. He used it to his advantage frequently.

John watched with his breath stuck in his throat as Lafayette crawled up the length of his body with the grace of a stalking jungle cat. Once he reached his mouth, John eagerly opened his lips against Lafayette’s kiss. Somehow, the wine tasted even sweeter on Lafayette’s tongue. John moaned between their mouths at this revelation as Lafayette’s tongue curled with his. The moan was too much for Lafayette to keep his composure and he sucked John’s lower lip into his mouth, hard enough to bruise it the colour of their wine. They barely noticed the slap of Alex’s bare feet down the hardwood floors in the hallway. 

“You started without me? Guys!” Alex complained.

Lafayette pulled off John’s lip with an unceremonious slurp and looked over his shoulder at Alex, the game in his dark, molten eyes, “you are busy, cher, non? Do not worry, I am taking care of things, I do not want you to feel that you… spread too thin?”

“We’ve been over this.” Alex cocked out a hip and crossed his arms, drinking in the sight before him. 

“We’re fine, Alexander. I can take care of our John.” Lafayette smirked devilishly and wriggled down John’s body. He nipped the tight flesh just below his navel, knowing how it would make John cry out, knowing, too, that John’s cries would summon Alexander even more to make their game of exclusion more fun. 

“No, no, need Alex, too.” John groaned, his feet kicking out straight. 

“So needy tonight, chou. All of the wine has gone to your head.”

John gripped the sheets as Lafayette flattened his tongue against the sore skin he’d just bitten. Alexander took John’s plea as an invitation. Lafayette nudged Alex away with his hip, getting brazenly greedy with John. Alex let out an impatient huff at being kept away from the action. Lafayette gently moved John's shirt out of the way and swirled his tongue against John's nipple. 

Alex groaned in pleasure at the sounds that John was making, his lover’s noise reverberating through his cock. Lafayette blindly grabbed Alex's hand and pressed it against John's other nipple, inviting him once and for all into their lust. The skin perked immediately at the competing touch of Lafayette’s soft mouth and the calluses on Alex's fingers. 

Lafayette hooked his fingers in the waistband of John’s sweatpants and pulled them down, biting his lip when John’s cock sprung free, bouncing and shiny with precome already. Alex, now greedy for both of his lovers, licked the spot behind Lafayette’s ear.

Lafayette hissed with pleasure, both his resolve and knees buckling as Alex suckled at the corner of his jaw just under his earlobe.

Alex’s mouth moved to find John’s and he let him kiss the crisp, yeasty taste of beer out of his mouth. John’s kisses were velvety and sweet. Alex moaned and licked into his mouth. Lafayette kissed his way to the edge of John’s torso and hiked up Alexander’s shirt to suckle at the small of his back, inciting Alex to deepen his kiss with John, swiping his thumb over John’s cheek.

As Alex moved to straddle John, his hair was yanked back again, the pain pricked his eyes with tears and his cock twitched with excitement at the sensation, the nerves down his spine were alight. 

“You think you’re just going to decide to interrupt John and I, tease me, and not have to give me any more attention? Cher, you are so brilliant, supremely so, how is it that you can be so thick?”

Alexander couldn’t resist, “got something real thick for you.” 

Lafayette gripped his hair harder and Alex moaned, the sound went straight to John’s cock, he rocked his hips up toward Alexander’s, making the man on top of him moan again. Alex’s fingernails bit into John’s chest as Lafayette’s mouth connected with his, John writhed and keened at the visual as well as the feeling of Alex’s nails. 

Lafayette broke his kiss with Alex and winked down at John, “you are so naughty, chou.”

John nodded, glancing at Lafayette through his lashes, Lafayette swallowed hard, “and so pretty. Isn’t he so pretty, Alexander?” 

Alex dropped his ear against John’s chest, hugging him, “so pretty.”

“Let’s share him.” Lafayette took Alex’s hand to sit him up and pressed his lips to his. 

Alex moaned into Lafayette’s mouth as John bucked his hips up against his groin. Lafayette moved away and started to rummage under their bed for the shoebox that held their favourite toys and lube. While Lafayette collected their supplies, Alex moved to sit behind John and dropped his chin to nip at his collar bone. 

“Shirt.” Lafayette swished two fingers through the air to signal John to discard his clothing. 

He sat up to obey and turned to face Alex, he kissed him softly, letting Alex open their kiss, accepting what he wanted to give him. He reached up and pulled out the highlighter that had been shoved in his messy bun, along with a pen, along with a mechanical pencil and snorted into his boyfriend’s mouth as he tugged the hair tie free, adding it to the two already on his wrist.

“Your hair’s like a pen cup.” He giggled against Alex’s mouth and set the writing instruments on the bedside table. 

Alex shrugged at him and let John pull his hoodie off, leaving him bare chested, he bent to unbutton Alex’s jeans and slid them down his legs. Lafayette waited at the end of the bed, also naked, wearing only a dark smirk. John settled back between Alex’s bent legs, savouring the warmth of his chest on his back. Alexander ran his hands over John’s body and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, tempted to suck it purple as his fingers found the hardness of John’s nipple. 

Lafayette clicked his tongue at the sight of them together and bent forward to kiss at John’s abdomen. He worked his way up John’s body and over to Alex’s neck and jaw, his tongue tracing Alex’s goatee. Lafayette pulled his glasses off and folded the arms down, setting them on the bedside table which was starting to resemble a sexy librarian scene. 

“Now, I can’t see you.” Alexander grumbled.

“Then just feel.” Lafayette grunted.

Alex kept his fingers over John’s nipple, the other hand tangled in Lafayette’s tight coils as their mouths found each other, his mostly useless eyes fluttered shut, awakening the sensations. 

John was pinned between them, neck craned to lap at Lafayette’s chest. Lafayette reached down and toyed lazily with John’s cock, enough to keep him needy. Laf reached two fingers into John’s mouth and John took the hint to be good and suck the digits, hollowing his cheeks around them. Lafayette tapped at his cheek with his thumb and John opened his mouth obediently. The wet fingers were at his entrance. He mewled at the feeling and arched back against Alex, the knobs of his spine giving Alexander’s cock satisfying friction. 

The sensation of a finger pressing inside him made John gasp, falling back on Alex who smiled against Lafayette’s mouth. Alexander wanted to chase John’s pleasure and exacerbate it. He reached between John and Lafayette to wrap his hand around his waiting cock. John cried out and turned his head against Alex’s chest as another finger was added. Lafayette patted at John’s thighs and he took the hint to hitch them over Alex’s knees, opening himself. 

Lafayette broke away from Alex’s lips, feeling how swollen his own lips were. He took in the sight of his boys and bit his tender lip. 

“Laf…” John breathed.

“Tell me what you want, chou.” 

“Want you.” He insisted.

“And what is it that you want from me?” 

Alexander smirked at the game, enjoying the torment that it brought John, he bit John’s ear and whispered, “tell him, baby boy, tell Laf what his boy wants.”

“Want your cock, Laf, want it in me. Want you to fuck me in Alex’s arms, want to feel you come inside me, want you to make me come, please. Please, fuck, God, Laf, I need your cock.”

Lafayette sat back on his heels, “mon dieu, that was even more than I could have expected.” 

Alex tongued the shell of John’s ear, “you did beautifully, baby boy.” 

Lafayette slicked his cock in lube, it looked normal wrapped in his long fingers, but once he pressed the tip to John’s entrance it took on a gargantuan appearance, he pressed in slowly and braced his hands on Alex’s knees. John hiccupped out a sob as the stretch burned him to his core. 

“Yes!” He hissed, his back arching away from Alexander.

“You are okay?” Lafayette asked softly.

John nodded, “so good.”

“Look how pretty he is on my cock.” Lafayette smirked to Alex.

“Gorgeous.” Alex agreed, working John’s cock in his fist. 

John could feeling his walls trembling as Lafayette continued his assault of John’s prostate. His arms wrapped up around Lafayette’s neck and he pulled him into a kiss. Lafayette matched the rhythm of his tongue to the rhythm of his cock and John whimpered, his hands falling to the mattress, he held Alex’s hips and let pleasure consume him, spilling over Alex’s hand. 

Alex moaned as Lafayette sucked his fingers clean, John’s taste and Alex’s noises sent him over the edge, he lie hard against John and submitted to his own pleasure. Lafayette slid free of him and flopped somehow gracefully beside them, reaching to grab a baby wipe to clean them. John moved to curl around him. Alex gave them a moment, casually stroking his own, still hard cock. 

“Psst!” Alex hissed after a few moments. 

Lafayette leaned up and blinked away the tiredness of the comedown, “do you require my services as well?”

Alex shook his head and pounced over John onto him, “oh, no, you’re the one getting my services. I told you I had something thick ready for you.”

“That so?” Lafayette quirked his eyebrow. 

“Sure fucking is.” He motioned down to his cock in hand.

John scooted over to make room. 

“Baby, you think you can get him ready for me?” Alex stroked John’s shoulder. 

John nodded and retrieved the lube, Alex got on all fours and crawled to straddle Lafayette’s head, carefully moving his curls out of the way - not wanting to hurt him by accident, when he did hurt him, he wanted it to be on purpose - before gripping the headboard. Lafayette took the hint and lapped at the underside of Alex’s balls. 

Alex threw his head back and let a moan tear through him. Lafayette grew needier, suckling at his shaft. Alexander listened to the wet slapping sounds of John getting him ready. 

“Thank you, Jack.” Alex nodded for John to remove himself. 

John kissed Alex on the lips and curled up on the pillows to watch the show that was unfolding. He appreciated the dance between Lafayette and Alex, the power struggle of their intimacy that ebbed and flowed as their roles changed. He loved being taken care of by them, but he also enjoyed watching what they would do to each other. 

“On all fours.” Alex commanded softly.

Lafayette nodded and obeyed. Alex kneed his thighs to drop him lower and compensate for being so much shorter. Lafayette yelped as his face dropped to the pillows. Alex stared at Lafayette’s beautiful, exposed body and slapped a flat hand over his ass, watching the hole pucker when he pulled back to slap him again, Lafayette moaned a low sound of endless pleasure. Alex slicked his cock and pressed the tip against Lafayette’s entrance, dragging it over the puckered flesh. 

“Do you still think that I’m too busy for you?” 

“Um…” Lafayette struggled to form words with Alex’s hard cock so close.

Alex swatted his ass cheek lightly to focus him, “I said, ‘do you still think that I’m too busy for you?’’”

“N-non, monsieur.” 

“Good,” he pressed into Lafayette and enjoyed watching his face drop to the pillow unceremoniously, “you were so ready, did John really do that well opening you up, or are you just that much of a cockslut?”

“I… I…” Lafayette babbled, until his cries turned into reckless sounds of passion. 

“La ferme, salope. I asked you a question.” He slapped his ass cheek again.

Lafayette bit back a cry in the heat of Alex’s thrusts, ‘I am just a slut for you, monsieur.” 

“Tu es à moi, d’accord?” Alex traced Lafayette’s delicate spine. 

Lafayette nodded.

“Dis-le!” Alex pumped into him relentlessly, driving against his prostate. 

“I am yours!” Lafayette cried proudly. 

The English declaration made John’s attention stir and he rolled onto his side and stroked Lafayette’s cheek with a dumb smile, enjoying how twisted with pleasure his face was under Alex’s attentions. 

Alex folded himself against Lafayette’s back and felt his orgasm coming, he thrust a hand out to John and gripped his knuckles tightly, seeking the connection to both of his lovers as his climax rippled through him. Lafayette spent himself again on the sheets. 

Alexander cleaned Lafayette up, gently caring for him, pressing kisses to his neck, soothing the red marks he’d left on his ass cheeks. They all stayed naked and curled up under the blankets together, Lafayette in the middle, Alex and John each tucked under an arm, holding hands over Lafayette’s chest. 

“Good luck with finals tomorrow.” Alex mumbled, sleep hunting him. 

“Yeah, you too.” John sighed. 

“I’ll be fine… you will, too, Jack. You’re so smart.”

“Just not in physics.” 

Lafayette let out a little snore that quieted John and Alexander’s conversation. 

“I love you,” Alex told them both and fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John gets bored during class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For ImmigrantPhenomenon
> 
> I'm open to requests

I’d never stop resenting John for making us late on the first day, we’d been permanently relegated to the back row of the lecture hall, the board barely visible even with my glasses. I grumbled as I took down notes on the case that we’d been assigned as reading over the weekend, John studied my notebook. 

 

“You didn’t do the reading, did you?” I whispered and rolled my eyes.

 

“I… did the drinking… and then we did the fucking…” He whispered sheepishly.

 

“Amazing that I could do all three.” 

 

“Shut up, ‘Lex.” He grabbed my notebook and quickly scribbled his notes down.

 

“Swear to God, I think you being in law school is just role research to play a sexy lawyer in a porno.” 

 

“Would you buy it?” 

 

“I… I would.”

 

Our professor cleared his throat and a hush fell over the room as he began to lecture. I followed along easily,  _ having done the reading.  _ I watched John struggle to keep up, his pink, wet tongue flicking out between his lips in concentration. I shook my head and sat up straighter to listen. John slid a piece of paper over the long desk to me. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye and opened it. 

 

His scratchy writing read:

 

**Are you hard? Circle One:**

**Yes    No**

 

He quirked an eyebrow at me and I folded up the paper and slipped it into my notebook, working to catch back up to what I had missed in the lecture. John’s hand was on my thigh, his long fingers trailing across the inseam of my jeans. My cock stirred at his touch and I frowned at him, scribbling more notes from the board. John’s fingers ran the length of the seam up to where they met the perpendicular crotch seam. I rolled my eyes and focused on the lecture, not how hard my cock was pressing against the fabric, or the wet spot undoubtedly forming on my boxers. John huffed and shifted in his seat. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and fondled the baby hairs at the nape of my neck. His fingers coiled around the hairs and tugged. I cleared my throat to cover a moan and shifted in my seat. 

 

John smirked, a glint of evil genius in his eye. When the professor turned his back to write something else on the board John slithered spinelessly to the floor and tucked his lanky body under the plank desk. I looked down at him, feeling my cheeks grow hot. He crawled between my legs. I pulled my computer out of my backpack and opened it to give myself something else to hide behind. I swallowed hard as John unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans. I panted as quietly as possible when my cock hit the air. I glanced down at John who grinned up at me. I shook my head imperceptibly. My cock was in his hand, in his mouth.  _ Oh, fuck, his mouth.  _ I began to type quickly on my laptop to try and stay focused and to seem like I wasn’t getting a blow job in the middle of a lecture on criminal law. 

 

But then he flattened his fucking tongue across the veiny underside of my swollen cock and I gripped the pencil still in my hand, unable to remember where all the keys were on the keyboard, I switched back to handwritten notes. My free hand traveled under the desk and knotted in his curls, pulling him down harder on my cock. If this was going to happen it might as well be good, and he deserved a taste of the punishment that he’d be getting later, naughty boys who give blow jobs in lecture need to be punished, I would solemnly carry out that responsibility. As I felt the tip of my cock slide across the ridge of his throats I considered what handcuffs I’d bring out later. 

 

_ Ropes, maybe? _

 

_ Both? _

 

Which of the plugs would suit the situation best. How pretty and pink his little ass would be once I’d slapped it as many times as he made me.  _ Rules are rules.  _ The thought of him tied up, plugged, flogged, wrecked, and spent paired like as well as chocolate with any of Lafayette’s expensive wine with the look he gave me through his lashes under the desk. He was so cocky, thinking he wouldn’t pay for this later. I tried to keep taking notes, despite my other hand still shoving him down on my cock. I heard a muffled choke but he tapped three times on my knee,  _ my little slut was fine.  _ He choked again quietly and the sound was too much, my stomach clenched and my breathing stopped, I closed my eyes and spilled down his throat, a soft moan vibrated around my throbbing cock. I stayed quiet, completely still, silent until the pencil in my hand snapped. I smirked down at him and let loose my grip on his hair. He put my soft cock back in my pants and tucked it away, zipping my jeans again. 

 

He started to get back up while our professor was looking around the room, driving his point home. I kept my hand on his head and shoved him down until the professor went to write something else on the board and I helped him up. He grinned at me and looked around the room, seeming satisfied with how many oblivious people were seated in the room with us. Later, with only a few minutes left in class he tore another corner of notebook paper out and scribbled me a note, passing it over.

 

I opened it: 

 

**I can still taste you.**

 

I flicked my eyes over to him and he licked his lips, still swollen from sucking me off, biting the full bottom one, eyes falling shut, head tipping back. I smirked at him,  _ baby boy, you have no idea what you’re in for.  _ Lecture ended and we walked out of the lecture hall last, having to wait for all of the students who valued punctuality to descend the stairs. I wrapped my arm around John and tucked my hand into his back pocket, squeezing the meat of his ass as we filed out with the mass of students onto the green, it was a pleasant, crisp fall day. 

 

I leaned over and whispered in his ear, “do you find the seats in Warren Hall comfortable?” 

 

“What?” 

 

“That’s where your class is at tomorrow, right? Tuesday, Thursday?”

 

“Yeah?” He blinked naїvely at me.

 

“Do you find the seats in the classroom comfortable?”

 

“They’re… fine?”

 

“You’re going to have a hard time sitting tomorrow.” I grabbed his ass roughly through his pocket and he yelped instinctively.

 

“Promise?” His eyebrows wagged.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU, unrelated to any other works. John and Alexander are roommates. This burns slower than wet paper.

I picked my phone up off my chest and lit it up, seeing the picture of me and Francis from last Christmas on my lock screen… no notifications. Tired of my own loneliness and on the tail end of another night without my phone buzzing I got up from my bed and crossed the hallway to the closed door and knocked lightly. I could hear keys being typed on at a furious pace. After I knocked, the typing fell silent.

 

“Yeah?” His voice was on the other side of the door. 

 

“Hey,” I peered around the door, creaking as I opened it.

 

“What’s up, John?” Alexander looked at me over his laptop with a grin and set his half empty rocks glass down on the side table.

 

“Just in a bummer mood.” I stared at the doorknob.

 

Alexander’s face turned serious as he put his computer aside and sat up, crossing his legs, “what’s going on?” 

 

I shrugged and leaned against the doorframe, not wanting to cross into his space, “lonely, I guess. Missing Francis. When it was good it was good, y’know?” 

 

He breathed a laugh and shook his head, self consciously smoothing out the blankets, “fucking hell, do I. Wanna come sit?”

 

I closed the distance to him and sat on the foot of his bed and tucked a knee up to my chest. He let his still-shower damp hair down from its bun and shook it out with fingers and yawned widely.

 

“Do… do you think it’s really over this time with you and Thomas?” I asked.

 

Alex leaned back into the pillows and fingered a fold in the empty sheets next to him, “who the hell even knows? He might come back, I might be dumb enough to let him, things’ll be great for a week, then we’ll be back where we are… where we’ve been.”

 

He looked so warm, his hair spread out on the pillow, chest wide enough to be cozy under his thin t-shirt. I flopped down next to him, occupying the cold, empty space beside him. He picked his rocks glass back up and drank from it. 

 

“I don’t know why I stayed so long.” I sighed, tucking my legs closer together to keep from accidentally brushing his leg with my own. 

 

“Yeah…”

 

“Whatcha working on?”

 

He rolled his eyes and took a drink, “just some work shit.”

 

I watched as his eyes held mine before scanning over me, my breath catching.

 

“What’s on your mind?”

 

“Loneliness, like you said.”

 

I snorted and picked up my phone scrolling through facebook, distracting myself from the flooding confusion, “yeah.”

 

“Anything exciting happening on facebook?” He rolled over onto his stomach and looked over my shoulder at my phone.

 

“Not really.” I shrugged.

 

He leaned his head on my shoulder and I kept scrolling, blowing the loose curl that hang in my eyes out of the way in frustration when I saw a cat video that Francis shared. Alex’s cheek was warm on my shoulder, he propped his chin up with his hand.

 

“I don’t know what good you think social media will do.” He chuckled.

 

“I don’t know…” I put my phone to sleep and dropped it on his bed and set my head in the crook of my arm. 

 

Alex rolled to his side and lie on his pillows, our faces close to each other, elbows nearly touching, a prickle ran up my arm, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. 

 

He bit his lip and then opened his mouth, shutting it and finally speaking, “can… can I hold you? Is that weird?”

 

“Oh, God, please.” I nodded, desperate for the comfort of human contact, tired of being cold and lonely.

 

I scooted up the bed and pressed myself against his chest. He smelled like salted amber and I burrowed closer as he wrapped his arms around me, warm and strong, he gave the best hugs and him holding me like this was no different. I sighed out loud subconsciously and felt the heat rush to my face, he let out a breathy laugh that ghosted over my skin. I breathed in his scent, the slightest hint of whiskey mingling with each exhale. He slid down the bed until we were lying in his cozy bed. His hand found my hair and worked through the curls casually, easing through tangles. My eyes closed at the bliss of the contact. We lie in silence like that for a while until I stretched and adjusted myself. 

 

“You tried any of the online shit?” He asked. 

 

I shrugged, “not really ready to accept defeat yet. You?”

 

“Yeah, during each of our on again off again’s. Mostly just dick pics.”

 

“Blegh,” I grumbled at the thought of swiping and swiping to try and find love in a stranger on the internet. 

 

He picked up his phone and opened one of the dating apps, I watched him navigate through it, “those all the hot guys talking to you?” 

 

“Nah,” he swiped through to a new screen, “these are.”

 

My eyes scanned the attractive men and women in his recent conversations list and I felt my mouth go dry but brushed it off and closed my eyes, drinking in the moment we had together. 

 

“You know you could find someone in a heartbeat.” He squeezed me tighter and sighed, the hair of his goatee scratched at my forehead, he rubbed my bicep casually through my shirt.

 

“Yeah, right.” 

 

“You totally could,” I heard his phone click to sleep. 

 

His hand trailed up to my hair again and I felt his nose against my scalp, and heard him breathe deeply and almost sigh contentedly. 

 

I nuzzled closer against his chest, “why do we not do this all the time?”

 

“Hmm?” He sighed again, I guessed he was falling asleep. 

 

“Why don’t we cuddle all the time? I hate sleeping alone.” 

 

“Mm… ‘cause it’s been a while since either of us slept alone?”

 

I traced my fingers over the soft cotton covering his chest, “yeah, I guess so, but like, why not in college? We’ve lived together for the last four years.”

 

“Probably because in college you  _ never  _ slept alone.” He laughed.

 

“Yeah... “ I agreed.

 

“You’re not over him are you?” Alex sounded so matter of fact, he peered into my soul.

 

“Maybe... I think I’m just not ready to be by myself. I thought this might have been it.” I reached up to tangle my fingers in his hair. 

 

“Fucking sucks…” I heard the heaviness in his voice, his fingers stuttered as they traced my arm.

 

“Yeah… Do… you want me to hold you?” 

 

“Nah, I like holding you. Thomas is shit to cuddle with.”

 

“Really?”

 

He snorted a laugh, “yeah.” 

 

“Even after… you guys...” the dry mouth was back.

 

“Ha, yeah, he’s a roll over and go to sleep type.” 

 

“I just don’t get it, like, why wouldn’t you want to cuddle afterwards?”

 

“I dunno,” 

 

His damp hair was slick in my hands, twisting it through my fingers was methodical and made me tired. 

 

“I should go to bed.” I sighed and stretched, liking the cramp in my legs from the stretch. 

 

“You could just stay.” His suggestion was quiet, I felt his grip tighten just slightly.

 

“Nah, you don’t want that.” I brushed it off but didn’t move. 

 

“John… will you stay?” 

 

I wiggled in his arms and breathed him in, “okay.” 

 

He reached back and turned off the lights and held me in the dark. 

 

“This feels so good,” he breathed a chuckle. 

 

“Yeah, it does.” 

 

He massaged my scalp and twisted his fingers in my curls. I lie in the darkness with him, enjoying his warmth, how strong he felt against me. I nosed his chest and breathed deeply again, his scent swirling around me, the thought of Francis melted away and I felt a hot tear streak across the bridge of my nose. I swallowed and took a breath through my mouth, my stomach clenching. I didn’t want Alexander to catch me crying in his arms. Another tear fell and his arms tightened around me. I was silent.

 

“It’s okay,” Alex whispered. 

 

Knowing I’d been caught, I reached up between us and covered my face with my hands and cried.

 

“Jack, you’re okay. I’ve got you.” He ran his hand down my back. 

 

Just because he’d seen me cry didn’t mean that I wanted him to while I was in his arms… in his bed. 

 

I sniffled and found enough of my voice to speak empty words, “I should go.” 

 

His voice was so level, “only if you want to. I’ll keep holding you all night if you want.” 

 

I lost my voice in my tears and nodded, surrendering to him, to the press of his body on mine, soft and hard in the right places to make him the perfect cuddle partner; so warm, so safe, so… Alex. My best friend, my roommate, my safe place. 

 

His hand ran a circuit up and down my back and settled at the small of my back where the hem of my shirt had ridden up, the skin to skin contact lit me up. He rolled his ankles, I smirked at the little pops that all of his joints made as he settled in for the night and he tucked his calf between mine, slowly edging his knee between mine. I shifted my hips and hitched my leg all the way over his. 

 

Alex’s hand moved from the small of my back and came to rest on my hip, his other arm still tucked around my body. 

 

“I think we’re going to have to do this every night.” He decided. 

 

“Okay.” I laughed, an awkward sound, my throat clotted from crying.

 

“You’re just too comfortable to let you sleep alone.” 

 

“Except for when all those tinder dates come rolling in.” I dropped my hand to his flank and played with the wrinkles in his shirt.

 

“Well, yeah, obviously… although… both of us might be a good selling point on tinder.”

 

“You goofy.” I laughed.

 

“I’ve seen weirder on there.” He chuckled back.

 

“Thanks for letting me sleep with you.”

 

“Huh?” He cleared his throat.

 

“For… letting me cuddle with you and… sleep here.”

 

“Oh, right, yeah, yeah, John, of course, you’re always welcome.” 

 

I detangled myself from him and rolled over, pressing my back into chest, he folded his legs against mine. I tucked my hands under my chin and his fingers strolled over my wrist and laced around my own fingers. I consciously forced my lungs to accept fresh air and slept with a grin on my face. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Two of the last Chapter for ImmigrantPhenomenon

I blew the eraser shavings away from the page, I was working at, letting them fall onto my sheets before I kept shading. From the hallway I heard the door unlock, open and then shut again and felt relieved to know that he was home… even more relieved at realizing that he was alone. He knocked at my door and I invited him in. 

 

“How was your… date?” I asked. 

 

He shrugged and licked his lips, his eyebrows raised high, trying to keep his eyes open wider. 

 

“You’re totally drunk right now!” I laughed and got off my bed, moving toward him.

 

“Maybe I’m… tipsy.” he conceded. 

 

“So who was this one with?” 

 

“Just some dude. Another lawyer, kind of an ass,” he held onto the doorframe and took a careful step, “lawyers are lame… I’m not that lame, right?” 

 

“You’re not lame, Alex.” I convinced him.

 

“You’d tell me?” 

 

“I’d definitely tell you… So this boring asshole lawyer couldn’t convince you to go home with him? It  _ must  _ have gone badly.” 

  
“Shut up,” he teased and grinned dopily at me. 

 

“You need to go to bed.” 

 

He stumbled and took my hand, pulling me forward counterbalancing him falling backwards, “come with me.” 

 

“Alex…” I sighed. 

 

“John, come on, you’re so comfy, the other night… was the best. Cuddle me?” 

 

I relented and let him pull me across the hall into his room. He stepped out of his shoes and let his nice jeans fall to the ground while he unbuttoned his shirt. I sat on his bed and looked anywhere but at him, he flopped into the bed next to me and grabbed me by the waist, tucking me against his side. We’d been in our underwear together loads of times over the years, most of the time when we shared a cramped dorm, but his boxers and tank top felt so much more exposing than my tshirt and thin sleep pants. 

 

“So, this lawyer getting a second date?” I asked, pulling his hair down from its messy bun. 

 

I added the hair tie to the collection on my wrist and rubbed his scalp.

 

“Probably not. He’s loaded, though, kept buying me drinks… I think… I think I let him down, but I didn’t want to go home with him. The idea of just coming home and falling into bed and cuddling up with you… that shit sounded so much better. Why didn’t you go out? It’s Friday night.” 

 

“No one I want to go out with.” I shrugged and pressed my cheek against his bare shoulder. 

 

“I thought there was Tinder guy.” 

 

“Nah…” I snuggled tighter into Alex, and freed my hand from his hair, my finger traced the straps of his tank top, fingering the bare skin of his shoulder blade.

 

“You could at least have gone out. I don’t want you to miss out on stuff.” He stretched and groaned, I guessed that from his vantage point the room was spinning. 

 

“I’m not missing out, but, damn, look at you, you’ve got a little streak of college John Laurens showing.” 

 

“Don’t judge me.” He laughed, hand climbing under the back of my shirt, the alcohol made him even warmer, his hand burned against my back, I became aware of how clammy I felt and tensed just slightly. 

 

“I’m not judging, I’m kind of proud, really. So what did rich, lawyer guy get you all messy drunk on?” 

 

“Rum… then tequila.” 

 

“Oh, man, you’re gonna be so dead tomorrow.” 

 

“I know. Do you have plans tomorrow?”

 

“Space Jam and takeout?” 

 

“I’m down.” 

 

He flattened his hand against my bare back, scooping me in tighter and I fell asleep listening to the soothing rhythm of him snoring. 

 

In the morning I woke up to him standing at his closet, wet hair dripping down his slender back, a towel wrapped low on his hips. I rustled in the sheets and cleared my throat to let him know I was awake.

 

“Hey.” I wiped my face and sat up. 

 

He looked over his shoulder and grinned, “oh, hey, you’re up, sorry, didn’t mean to bother you.” 

 

“All good, I’m gonna go out to the living room, let you get dressed.”

 

“Cool, I’ll be out in a minute.” 

 

I stole a final glance at him and left his room, curling up on our sofa in the living room, wrapping myself in the throw blanket. He came out of his room in a hoodie and sweatpants, wet hair tossed up high on his head. He flopped on top of me on the couch and wriggled into the blanket. 

 

“Hi.” I wheezed out with a chuckle. 

 

“Shh… less talking, more napping.” he dropped his ear to my chest. 

 

“How’s your head?” 

 

“John… less talking.” 

 

“Have you taken anything?”

 

“Aspirin… shh…” 

 

I propped my phone up on his back and scrolled through Instagram. He tapped a quick, constant beat on my shoulder with his fingers, I recognized it as my own excited heartbeat. He quickly fell asleep on me. Caught up on Instagram, I switched over to Tinder and sighed in dejection as I found more average guys, data analysts, chiropractors, shift leads at Chipotle… no one I wanted. Maybe there would never be someone I wanted. 

 

Alex shifted and slid over my body, tucking into the crack where the seat met the back of the couch, pushing me closer to the edge. I put my phone to sleep and rolled into him. I watched him sleep and closed my eyes. 

 

Time lost meaning as we lie together on the couch. Him sleeping, me dozing, both of us warm and safe under the blankets happy to ignore the world outside. The sounds of the streets were a busy whirl of Saturday traffic. He moaned quietly and kicked his leg between mine, our hips pressed together in the cramped space of the couch. I breathed deliberately, aware of our proximity. Alex’s hand was at the back of my neck, he pulled my head down and quicker that I could acknowledge, his lips found mine. 

 

Like the rest of him, they were warm and soft, framed in roughness by his goatee. I kissed him back and he licked into my mouth. I moaned into him and my tongue found his, the wet softness sent sparks through my body. Each movement of his lips, each tiny breath ghosting against my tongue, spiralled me deeper. I forgot to breathe until my lungs burned. He pulled away and we stared into each other’s eyes.

 

“I’m sorry,” he blinked, “I don’t know what I was thinking, I’m so sorry, John.” 

 

I blinked back at him, catching my breath, “did you like it?”

 

“What?” 

 

“Kissing me… did you like it?” 

 

“Um… yeah, I-I did.”

 

“Would you like to do it again?” 

 

He nodded, “yes, please.” 

 

I hooked my finger under his chin and pulled him closer, our lips meeting, the only sound in our apartment was the sounds of our kiss, the gently smacks, tiny suckling noises as he pulled my bottom lip into his mouth. He took my hip in his hand and squeezed it tightly. I gasped into his mouth and licked into him, his tongue ran across my own, I shuddered and moaned into him. 

 

It was in this moment that I realized how many times I’d fantasized about this moment, about what he would taste like, about how soft his mouth would be. How many nights he’d crept into my fantasies, each time that he cooked dinner in just sweatpants that I’d imagined coming up behind him and wrapping my arms around his broad chest. 

 

“Alex.” I moaned his name, mostly to make sure that this moment was real.

 

His hand climbed under the back of my shirt again and he panted my name. Our kisses stayed the course, hands exploring each other’s chests and back and hips. He kept the contact of our hips, latching his leg behind mine. His chest heaved against mine, and my swollen lips felt sore and tired, we broke loose of each other and stared at one another in the small gap between our faces. 

 

“What’s happening, Alex?” I frowned, the fear of the intensity of what we’d done hurtling toward my consciousness. 

 

He grinned out of half of his mouth and swept my hair back, “what should have years ago.”

 

“What?” I wrinkled my nose at him.

 

“How many guys?” he sighed and tugged at a curl, pulling it straight, letting it spring back around my face, “how many guys have we been with? We’ve been with them, come home to each other, had our  _ fun  _ with them and come home to each other, make dinner for each other, spend time with each other, eat ice cream and binge watch Game of Thrones with each other. It’s always been you, Jack, always.” 

 

“No…” sadness clawed at me, at the thought of the wasted years, ignoring what was in front of my face the whole time, “no, Alex, you don’t really…”

 

“Love you? I do, I always have. It’s why I stay up to make sure you get home safe, it’s why I never eat the last yogurt, why I always try and dry the towels right before you take a shower.” 

 

I grinned at him, “warm towels  _ are  _ nice… I always just thought it was on accident.” 

 

“Never. It’s all because I love you.” 

 

“I love you, too. I thought I was just jealous because you’re my best friend, but like when I’d see you with other guys… or girls, it… I was jealous.” 

 

“And it’s cute.” He kissed the tip of my nose. 

 

“But Thomas is gonna call you again.” I accepted the defeat of just being a placeholder. 

 

“Let him. Let the phone ring off the hook. There’s nothing he can give me that’s better than you.” 

 

“Nice shit.”

 

“He has a velvet sofa. Who the fuck has a velvet sofa?” 

 

“But ours is shitty.” I toed the rip in the stained fabric. 

 

“No, ours is hauling it up six flights of stairs into our dorm, the dollars of change we shook out of it to try and scrape together enough to go out to the bar across from campus, hauling it back out in the rain, dropping it on the concrete when we were moving in here, the bowl of chili you spilled on the arm when you got excited during the basketball finals two years ago, the ink on the middle seat from when my pen exploded. It’s not shitty, it’s our lives.” 

 

“Dammit, Alexander,” I sighed and stroked his flank, “you and your stupid words always making me feel shit.” 

 

“I got skills.” He quirked an eyebrow and leaned in to kiss me again. 

 

I closed my eyes into the magic of the electricity of his kiss and melted into his body, he sucked at my tender lip again, the pain making me giggle lightly, he pulled back. 

 

“You’re the first guy who’s ever laughed when I kissed him.” He eyes crinkled in the corners from his grin. 

 

“Sorry,” I said sheepishly.

 

“I’ve been waiting for a guy to laugh. I’ve been waiting for a guy I can make laugh in bed.”

 

“I’ve never laughed…” 

 

“We’ll see.” His grin turned wolfish. 

 

I rolled my eyes and kissed him again, unable to hold back the giggle that slipped out. He moaned into my mouth and gripped me tighter. I licked into his mouth, the sweetness of his tongue as it reached for my own, his hands were in my hair, gentle and casual even as his mouth worked against mine with more intensity. 

 

“I love you.” He broke us apart to tell me.

 

“I love you, too, Alex.”

 

“I’ve always thought you were cute.”

 

“Yeah? I mean, we do cute stuff together, that’s like a best friend thing.”

 

“Okay…” he twisted a section of my hair, “I’ve always thought you were sexy.” 

 

“No,” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“Really?” 

 

“Oh, God, yeah, John, how have you never noticed before?” 

 

“Because I’m dumb?” I laughed.

 

“Well knock that shit off. I want you to notice it now. I want you to notice how I watch you, how sexy I think you are.”

 

I grinned at him, “okay.” 

 

His stomach growled between us and I laughed, tucking my hand onto his belly, “ready for that takeout yet?”

 

“Definitely.” He smirked.

 

We spent the rest of the night watching bad tv and sharing bites of Chinese food on our stained, broken in couch, each occupying an arm of it, legs tangled together in the middle, toes occasionally rubbing over the back of the other’s calves, leaning in to steal tiny kisses, still best friends, but finally able to acknowledge that we’d always been so much more. 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in the Revolutionary war. The two aides-de-camp find comfort in each other's company.

Gibbs stood up and stacked his receipts neatly into his letter box and picked up his candle, “Hamilton, Laurens, always so eager to work into the night.” 

 

I looked up at him and smiled, “we work until the work is done, Gibbs.” 

 

I dipped my quill in ink and copied the next line of the letter that I’d written in the hand of Washington. 

 

“Well, goodnight, gentlemen.” He laughed me off.

 

“‘Night, Gibbs.” John ducked his head. 

 

Gibbs disappeared through the doorway and made his way up the creaky steps to the room he was sharing with someone else in Washington’s military family. The great room was now empty, the master of the house long retired, our lamp burned low and cast long shadows around the room. John shifted on the bench next to me, bones in his back popping, he yawned widely and dropped his quill back to the page, copying another letter I’d drafted for the General, his hand was heavier and less precise than my own. 

 

“You’re tired.” I commented, continuing my writing. 

 

“We all are. We’re fighting a war.” 

 

“And, my dear boy, you fight it with the passion that few others can muster, you have more right to be tired than any man on the soil of this land.” 

 

I heard him breathe a small laugh as he dipped his quill back in the inkwell. I wrote still, ignoring the cramp in my hand, it never let me alone, dare I say it gave me difficulty in articulating with my rifle. I felt John’s shin climb across the back of my calf and cleared my throat. He laughed that same quiet, heavy breath and his leg was gone from mine. The bench creaked as he fidgeted, his toes now bare, save for their stockings played at the back of my ankle at the edge of the leather of my shoes.

 

“Laurens, are you through with that letter?” I whispered. 

 

“Nearly, it isn’t my fault that certain authors lack the skill of brevity.” 

 

“It has seemed that a lack of brevity is not always your complaint, for I recall multiple occasions with which stamina and endurance have been your compliments.” I looked at him out of the corner of my eye and saw his freckles burn with a blush in the lamplight. 

 

We worked in silence until he was finished copying the letter, I was long done and had moved on to a new project for the general. Laurens shoved his papers into his letterbox and grinned at me wolfishly. I took my time in neatly packing my things for the next day when we would take our work back up. 

 

“Ham, come with me to the creek, I am a wretched, dirty thing.” Laurens pleaded with me. 

 

“I do not disagree with such observations.” I winked at him.

 

His lips curled up and he rolled his eyes in their sockets, “you slink quietly about, it is in our best interest if you retrieve our packs from our room.”

 

I nodded and crept up the stairs, watching him pull his shoe back on. The sounds of the family snoring in their beds filled the house and drowned out my movements, I made it into the tight room that had been declared mine and John’s. It was cramped, the lady of the house apologized for the lack of privacy that the small room afforded, we assured her casually that it was no matter, though Laurens and I admitted to each other that the privacy was a work of divine inspiration.

 

With the packs slung crosswise around my trunk I slipped through the cacophonous house back to where Laurens waited for me. He watched me dismount the stairs and shouldered his own pack when I handed it to him. Once we were outside and past the first row of tents we permitted our voices to rise to a conversational volume. The creek was a pleasant walk from the house, safe from enemy territory - not that John minded either way - but still far enough away to be unseen by our own men as we bathed ourselves… each other.

At the edge of the water we stripped ourselves bare, setting our shoes among the roots under a willow tree and waded with our armfuls of clothing into the water. There was a smooth rock jutting above the water, we sat ourselves on it and made our clothing damp. John dug into his bar of soap with his thumbnail and worked the shavings to a froth before handing the bar to me. 

 

I put my stocking under the water and rubbed at the soles, laughing to myself, “Laurens, you fool.”

 

“What have I done?” He asked me as he meticulously scrubbed the fabric of his stockings against itself. 

 

“I was recalling your opinion that white clothing is the easiest to keep pristine... you’re a fool.”

 

“It is a part of my charm, though. I hold that opinion strongly, with white clothing, there isn’t concern or question about the cleanliness of the garment.” 

 

“But under most circumstances, they can never be completely white after a time has passed.” 

 

“You need to learn better washing.” He teased. 

 

“I’m fine at washing.” I argued back. 

 

“You’re fine at many tasks, Alexander, washing is one that perhaps you should defer to me for.”

 

“Then you may do my washing as well.” I handed him back the bar of soap and splashed into the creek, dunking my body. 

 

John watched me with his lips pursed and fired off banter, “only for you, dear girl.” 

 

“‘Dear, girl,’ bah, you’re the one doing the washing. Hurry up, I wish to take you in my arms here in this creek.” 

 

He glowered at me, but I noticed him take up speed in doing the washing as he moved on to my breeches. Once it was all finished, he took the armful of clothing to the shore and hung it over the skeleton of a dead tree. He joined me in the water and handed me the soap back, tipping his head back to dampen his curls. I broke a corner of the soap off in my hands and gave him back the bar, working the fragment in my hands into a lather before burying my fingers into his hair. He moaned in ecstasy as I massaged his scalp. I inspected it carefully in the moonlight, looking for lice and other parasites that were common among the barracks. With his back to me as I washed his hair, I was afforded access to kiss his neck, thick and strong, I found the artery under his ear and suckled at it.  

 

John ducked beneath the water to rinse his hair and repeated the actions for me, he scratched at the flaky skin on my scalp that nearly always burned and reacted from the caustic soap. I sighed as he ran his fingers through my hair. We each washed ourselves and then stood in the creek at the deepest part, water up to our chests and looked at each other. 

 

I leaned into him and took him by the waist against me, meeting our mouths in a kiss. He licked at my own mouth and I tasted his sweet flavour. He pressed our bodies together passionately and kissed me harder, the speed increasing the longer we stood in the creek together. 

 

“We should go back and retire.” I told him, my hand on his chest. 

 

“We should stay here.” he countered. 

 

“Jack, it will serve us no boon to be found engaging in such acts in the middle of a creek.” 

 

“It will serve us no boon to be found engaging in such acts from your howling.” he countered.

 

I felt heat rise to my face at the memory of the times that John had shoved his fingers in my mouth to keep me quiet. 

 

“Then what is your suggestion?” I stood my ground, foolish though it may have been. 

 

“Our cot is softer than the ground and it is warmer inside by the fire. I relent to you, Alexander, as I always do. We will go back and retire, and I will gag you with your own stockings if I have to.” 

 

“If you’d only sworn that under oath.” I grinned, staring at his creamy skin in the blue moonlight. 

 

“Is this a fantasy that has brought you pleasure previously?” He asked, wading back through the creek. 

 

“Not predating this moment, but you have my word that it shall be.” 

 

I stood on the shore and shook myself like a dog, pressing the water from my hair in my fists. I didn’t like how the caustic soap made it feel - stringy and straw like. John seemed unbothered by it. We dressed in hunting shirts which hung to our knees, and back into our shoes, carrying our damp clothing against ourselves. 

 

The standing patrol acknowledged us, likely envious that we had had the opportunity to make ourselves clean. Once inside our lodging house we crept up the stairs, Laurens finding every loose board in the house, making each step as loud as possible. My movements were deft and agile, silent. We pulled the plank door of our room shut to afford a little blessed privacy. 

 

John stoked the coals to life while I hung our clothing before the mantle. The fire roared softly and I was grateful for any noise that it offered to conceal our actions. Our cot was small, too small to comfortably fit two grown men, but with our limited supplies we all made due. Even men without mine and John’s proclivity to bed with another man found themselves eager to share in the comfort and warmth of another soul. 

 

Laurens was first to initiate our tryst. His fingers sought the hem of my hunting shirt, he hitched it over my hips and felt my body, sharp and hard from use and hunger. His fingers, calloused and rough teased at the flesh of my manhood, I stirred and leaned back against him. He continued to stroke me, arousing me. 

 

I sighed and he whispered in my ear, “be quiet, lover.” 

 

At his words I nodded and reached back to pull his lips toward my neck. He suckled the flesh, careful to only marr the flesh below the covering of my uniform, which left bruises on the surprisingly erogenous spots of my shoulder blades.

 

He spat into his hand and split the flesh of my seat. I arched against him at the burning press of his fingers. 

 

“When this war is over and we’re home in our country and I bed you we’ll have the finest oils. I hate hurting you.” He whispered in my ear.

 

“Laurens, there is no bedding each other after the war. Once we live the lives of simple men we must take wives and be men, not the aberrations of pleasures of the flesh that the war has allowed us to become.” I reminded him.

 

“Hamilton, doesn’t this seem an inappropriate occasion to discuss such matters?” His fingers pressed deep within me and panted.

 

“Perhaps you are right, pet.” I gasped and clutched at him through the rough patchwork blanket we’d been provided. 

 

“Aren’t I always?” He growled in my ear. 

 

I panted, trying to stay silent, “to this… I cannot… concede.” 

 

His fingers twisted, the digits finding new spots of pleasure to take advantage of, his chest heaved against my spine, “Alexander, I must have you.” 

 

“Then have me.” I drew my knee against my body and heard him spit again. 

 

The press of his manhood was the sear of fingers on a hot kettle, I bit down around nothing but my own teeth and whimpered at the stretch of my body to accommodate his. 

 

“Are you alright, pet?” He asked. 

 

I nodded, not willing to trust my voice for speech, he pressed himself further, until he reached the hilt and stayed sheathed in me until I writhed before him. 

 

“John.” I whispered, trying to be silent, knowing what would happen if anyone else were woken up by us. 

 

His tongue traced the back of my ear before he nipped the outer shell. I pressed my face into the bend of my elbow to silence myself and he worked his body in staccato motions, my own body relenting around him. The competing roughness of him inside me and the straw barely hewn into the cot below us warred with the tenderness of his breath against my shoulder and his hand picking up my own and pressing the knuckles to his lips. 

 

He motions grew faster, a small creak sounded from our cot with every thrust he made, the stability of pistons in a steam engine. I wrapped his arm around me and bit down on his wrist to keep from crying out his precious name. His heat leaked inside me and I gasped around the filling sensation. His sweaty brow came to rest against my shoulder and he moved his hand to my manhood again. My eyes rolled back in my skull at his touch and a small moan chased out of my mouth.

 

“Be quiet.” He demanded in a breath in my ear. 

 

I rolled to face him in the tiny cot and clamped my teeth against each other and his breath stroked my ear again, “Hamilton, compose yourself before we are found.” 

 

I nodded and kissed him to shut myself up. My climax was urgent, throbbing in his hand, tongue against his. He licked into my mouth a final time and removed his hand, licking his fingers clean. My body shuddered at the sight and I kissed my taste out of his mouth. 

 

“You slay me again, dear boy.” I whispered into his ear.

 

“It is resolutely my pleasure.” 

 

“How many words must I use before you understand my love for you?” 

 

“At least a thousand more if they are as pretty as the words you write for the general.” 

 

“Those words are but correspondence. The words I use on you are private and betray my affections.” 

 

“Then at least another thousand after it, if only to hear you speak them to me.” His nose brushed against my collarbone. 

 

I moved down in the cot and dropped my brow against his shoulder, “Laurens, I do believe that you and our dear Marquis are my only comfort against this wretched world.” 

 

He hands raked through my hair, “but do you know our dear Marquis as you know me?” 

 

I breathed a soft laugh, “I know him as you know him, and as we all know each other, he is good company, dear boy, but any company I keep pales against you.” 

 

“And you should know, with as much company you keep.” 

 

“You are often indisposed, I must keep company somewhere.” 

 

“How many bastards do you reckon you’ve encumbered the ladies with.” 

 

“None.” I argued. 

 

“And you know this how?” 

 

“I reckon that I do not know, but I believe it to be so in that only do I peak in your arms.” 

 

“Is that so?” 

 

“Perhaps.” I smirked at him, his face glowing in the flickering light of the fireplace. 

 

“Perhaps.” He repeated. 

 

“Good night, Jack.” 

 

“Good night, Ham.” He kissed my jaw a final time and rolled over to make himself comfortable, letting me embrace him and mold my body to his. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For ImmigrantPhenomenon. Modern AU, John's been gone for years, he and Alex have an emotional reunion and figure out what life looks like now.

“I didn’t think you were coming back.” I cried in his arms. 

 

“Of course I came back. I promised you didn’t I? Didn’t I say, ‘Alex, no matter what happens, no matter what I have to do, I’m coming home to you’? ” He stroked my hair and let me cry. 

 

“You did, but, God, when I heard about your battalion…” I cried harder, holding him tighter, smelling his comforting scent.

 

“Shh… baby, it’s okay, I’m home. I’m home.” 

 

“What was it like?” I asked him. 

 

“Which part?” 

 

“When you were… prisoner? Kidnapped? Hostage? I don’t know what word to use.” 

 

“It doesn’t matter. I have better stuff to talk about. Like you.” 

 

I nodded, understanding that he didn’t want to relive the horrible things that he’d been through. 

 

“I like your hair longer like this.” I wrapped a piece around my fingers. 

 

“No barbers in the caves.” He smiled half-heartedly. 

 

“Just goes to show how long you were in there.” My tears flowed again. 

 

“Shh… Alex, Alex, it’s okay. Tell me more about... about what I’ve missed.”

 

“Um… Whole Foods has fucking taken over, um, everyone died in 2016, Prince, David Bowie, Alan Rickman, Carrie Fisher, uh, Kanye’s still Kanye. I don’t know…” 

 

“Tell me about what I missed with you, ‘Lex.” 

 

“I… well… I moved down to Hell’s Kitchen to be closer to work, it was really hard to let our place go, but, I did. You were like a ghost in there. I… met a girl.” 

 

“Yeah?” His hand stopped its journey up my back. 

 

“Yeah, I love her, but she’s always just been a placeholder for you. I didn’t even mean to meet her, but she’s wonderful.” 

 

“Then what are you doing here?” John asked. 

 

I pulled the blanket over my bare chest defensively, feeling exposed, “John, when you came home, a part of me came home. I’ve been looking for someone shaped even kind of like the hole you left in me when you disappeared, and she’s like a tamponade, she’s gentle and kind like you are, Jack, she’s smart, she’s loyal like you… more than I am, I guess, but you’re home.” 

 

“Alexander… this girl, how long have you been with her? What’s her name?” 

 

“Eliza… almost a year and a half.” 

 

“You should go to her then. I’ll be okay.” 

 

“No! No, no, no.” I clutched him, feeling my head spin, and my body grow hot and anxious at even the prospect of losing him again. 

 

“Alex,” he kissed the top of my head and threaded our naked legs together, “it’s okay, you moved on. I was declared dead, I mean, I can’t blame you for moving on, I’m glad you did. I know it must have been hard for you.” 

 

“It was the worst. I… Hercules had an almost full blown intervention for me. I finally started living again and then a year later you’re home, I don’t know what to do with… I don’t know what to do.” 

 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you, I’m sorry I’m the reason you were hurting.” 

 

“You can’t blame yourself, John.”

 

“No. I don’t, not really. But I’ll always feel bad.” 

 

“It’s okay, you’re home, and you’re with me.” 

 

“But, what about Eliza? She’s important to you.” 

 

“I know, but you’re you,” tears rolled hotly down my cheeks, “you don’t have to go back, do you?” 

 

He kissed my head again, “no, babe, never, discharged with full honours, whole nine yards, all sorts of stupid medals coming my way. My shoulder’s way too fucked up to let me back out there.” 

 

“From when you got shot.” 

 

“Three times, couldn’t keep my ass down.” He grinned.

 

I clutched him to me, hating him talking like that, “I still don’t know why you enlisted.” 

 

“Do the right thing, I guess, make people proud,”

 

“I’ve always been proud of you.” 

 

“I know you have, Alex. God, it’s good to be home,” he smelled my hair and I watched tears gather in the corners of his eyes again, “I used to pray every night, there was this tiny, tiny little crevice I could just barely see the sky through, I’d look up and find a star at night and just take comfort knowing that you would see the same star the next day. I’d look up through that crack and I’d pray, ‘God, just let me see my baby one more time. Let me just go home to my Alex.’” 

 

“Your prayers got answered… mine did, too.” 

 

“I know you’re still a cynic.” He brushed my hair behind my ear. 

 

“I am.” 

 

“My prayers were to see you one more time. It can just be that, be this. One last glorious day in my hotel with you. I got to see you again. This one day was worth a thousand in any cave.” 

 

“John… no, I don’t want that. I can’t lose you again.” 

 

“Alex, you haven’t seen me in four years, that’s almost as long as we were together.” 

 

“I don’t care. I want you. You’re all I want, all I’ve ever wanted.” I kissed him like a memory, our mouths anticipating what came next, a step ahead of each other.

 

I fogged into the kiss, heady and strong, my mind blurred, becoming nothing but sensations. Him, warm and close to me, our naked bodies against each other. He was so skinny, but nothing else had changed, he was still my John. Memories of our last night together flooded me, how tightly I’d held him, pleading with the universe not to take him, to let him stay by my side, sure that I’d never see him again. I knew John, I knew that once he was deployed he’d do something stupid and get himself killed, or stuck in a cave without anyone else knowing about it. 

 

He pulled back and bit his lip, “Alex, this isn’t right. You have this girl, she loves you, I’m sure, who could not love you? You shouldn’t be here.”

 

I sniffled, my nose stuffy from how much I’d cried today in his hotel room, my face was sticky from all of my dried tears, “I don’t care.”

 

“I know you don’t, but this isn’t right to her. I’m sure you care about her, too.” 

 

“Well, of course I do, but John, we had a life together, we were planning our future,” I sniffled again and rested my cheek against his chest, I couldn’t bear to look at him, “don’t you remember? We were going to have babies that look like you.” 

 

His hands were in my hair, “I remember, Alex, of course, I remember, that’s what got me home, that’s what kept me alive. Knowing that halfway across the world, the most beautiful man God created wanted to have a life with me…” his voice shook, “and I think… I think I knew that you probably moved on, I wanted you to. To be happy, to live a good life, but I always kept that memory. That idea.”

 

“I didn’t move on, though, John. I just made it work, I’ve been so lonely… lonely for you.” 

 

He lost his composure and cried against my hair, “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry I did this to you, ‘Lex.”

 

I reached up to stroke his face, to dry his tears, “you didn’t  _ do  _ anything. You went to war… you did it John Laurens style. Obviously, this kind of shit would happen.” 

 

“I should have been more careful. For you. I…” he blew out a breath, “after we lost that squadron in the car bomb, I, fuck, I had like, survivor’s guilt, I should have been in that van, I should have been blown up, my best men, my best friends, they died that day. I was supposed to have been in that van, it was chance, I was right behind them. I saw them die.” 

 

I nodded, staying silent, letting him volunteer whatever information he wanted me to know. 

 

“There was this guy, French guy, he was my best friend over there, we called him the Marquis, he just had this air about him. He was younger than all of us, I took him under my wing, I guess, and he died in my arms that day. He’s the one who told me about the cave. He told me that when they’d been out on recon earlier that week they’d seen it. Seen people coming and going. I demanded that we check it out. Y’know, for the Marquis, like if we could just take that base, I could avenge him or some shit. We got there and it was devastating, the losses, they saw us coming a mile away. I’m it, Alex, I’m the only man in my whole battalion left standing. I  _ was  _ reckless, I was, but it was for my friend, and I’m so sorry that I was thinking more of him than I was of you.” 

 

“John, I’m so sorry that happened. It’s okay, it’s okay, you’ve always been a good friend. I remember you writing about him in your letters. He seemed like a good friend to you, too.” 

 

John sniffed and nodded, “he was.” 

 

We lie there silently, watching the shadows on the wall get longer. I traced his freckles, sure that he had even more than when he left. 

 

“Do you still want me?” I couldn’t make my voice louder than a whisper. 

 

“Always, Alexander. I will always want you. More than that, though, I want you to be happy. I can’t waltz in after four years, almost three of them spent being dead and just have the life I left. I know that. I don’t ask that of you.” 

 

“But I want you, too.” 

 

“I know you do.” 

 

“Eliza used to pray for you, too. She’s really god fearing, just like you. I think I made her love you, too.” 

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“Oh, yeah. I talked about you constantly. Tried to make it like you were there with us.”

 

“God, Alex, you’re so creepy.” He giggled, teasing me. 

 

“I know, but you were never just a ghost to me. I kept you with me always. I’d talk to you at the grocery store, do you know how long it took me to stop buying peaches?” 

 

“You hate peaches.” 

 

“But you love them, it was instinctive, ‘oh, I bet John wants some peaches,’ and I’d get them and they’d rot, and I’d get more. Once they’d told me you were gone, I talked to you even more, constantly, like I do, I talked your ear off. Up late nights with a cup of coffee just telling you about my life and what was happening and I’d almost, like imagine what you’d say, and just keep talking to you. I never told people you were dead. I’d just tell them you were overseas and I wasn’t sure when you were coming home. Eliza was the first person I told. I think she always knew that if you ever really did come home it was over.”

 

“That’s not fair to her.” 

 

“And is me being with her and wishing that it was you fair? We don’t even live together, John. You and I lived together. What’s four years, really? We’re only twenty-five. We still have our whole lives ahead of us.”

 

“I know, I guess you’re right.” 

 

“I still want the life we were making. I still want the babies that look like you. I still want to move out of the city and live a quiet life together.”

 

“Alex, I’m a little fucked up. I’m different. I’m fucked up.”

 

“I know. You couldn’t come back the same. It wouldn’t be possible, I don’t care. I love you no matter what that cave, what war, did to you, you’re still my John. I pick you. Come home, John. With me. Come home. I’ll tell Eliza, she’ll get it. Come home, don’t let me waste any more time without you.”

 

He bit his chapped lip and nodded, “you’re sure?” 

 

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life, John Laurens. It’s always been you.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is short, sorry for that. A request from ImmigrantPhenomenon. I live for these requests. Keep 'em coming! John ignores Alexander.

Briefs were boring. Badly written briefs were even worse. I reached over the arm of the couch for my mug and took a drink of my now cold coffee. My eyes scanned the text and I flipped the page, pen between my teeth, groaning internally at the drivel before me.  _ What’s John doing?  _ My brain drifted from the pages.  _ Last night was fun. John hadn’t tied me up for a long time. _ I smirked at the red burns from the rope on my skin carefully hidden by my watch band. Focus evaded me, the house was a quiet echo chamber for my mind. 

 

_ C’mon, Alexander, focus.  _ I willed myself to read the brief and spun the gold band on my finger in circles with my thumb, trying to keep my mind entertained. Another page read, this case would be pretty open and shut, no problem, probably not even too many late nights in the office. That would make John happy…  _ blow jobs make John happy. John’s blow jobs make me hap-godammit, focus!  _ I underlined an important portion of the text and kept reading, still thinking about John’s mouth, thinking about his cock. Thinking about his ass.  _ His ass in the slacks he wore to work today. _ I read on, but my fingers slipped under the waistband of my sweatpants. As I tried to keep reading, I stroked myself, thinking about John, his mouth, his legs, his lips, his everything. 

 

John flung the door open and dropped his briefcase by the door, “hi, honey!” he called to me, moving through the apartment, away from me.

 

“John, come here!” I whined, this was perfect, he could distract me entirely from the worthless brief and give me the satisfaction of admiring him in those slacks, and getting him out of them. 

 

“Yeah, babe, just a minute. Gotta take a piss and get out of these clothes. I swear at least two dozen sick kids coughed on me today. Last thing I need is you getting sick on me this early. When are you going to let me give you a flu shot?” 

 

“No, never. They don’t work. I still get sick.” I called to him in protest, my hand still around my cock. 

 

“Yes, they do. It’s science, Alex. Gonna be a bad flu year again.” exasperation rang out in his voice. 

 

After a few minutes he was in the hallway hanging his lab coat up in the foyer closet for tomorrow. I leaned up from the couch to see him. His joggers didn’t have the same effect as his slacks did but he was still fine as hell. He shuffled into the kitchen. 

 

“Babe. Come pay attention to me.” I begged. 

 

“Yeah, yeah, sure, just gimme a minute. What do you want for dinner?” 

 

I pulled my hard cock all the way out of my pants and gripped it in my fist, “really don’t care right now.” 

 

“Alright, that’s fine... Okay... I’ll figure something out. Ugh, that nurse I told you about the other day? She is such a bitch. I’ve got some serious respect for nurses, but this woman is just terrible. ‘Lex, she, whew, she literally told me that I didn’t have authority in my own unit. Like, are you kidding me? Are you kidding me? Ooh, how about pad thai?” He opened and shut different cabinets as his mind hopped from topic to topic.

 

“That’s fine. I don’t care. Sorry you such a had shitty day. Nurse ratched seems like a bitch. Please come pay attention to me?” I pleaded, still pumping my cock slowly, the veins throbbed under the thin skin.

 

“Yeah, yeah, honey, just gimme a minute to get this going, you wanna put Hulu on? Damn, we don’t have any peanut butter, okay, plan b. Hold on… I’ll think of something.” 

 

“John.” I begged. 

 

“Yeah?” Another cabinet door shut in the kitchen, the fridge opened. 

 

“John,  _ please baby. _ ”

 

“Yeah, Alex, sorry, just a minute, I didn’t have lunch today, I’m so hungry, like rapidly approaching hangry.”

 

“Let's just order in.”  _ I’m rapidly approaching going to lose my freaking mind if you don’t touch me. _

 

“We've done that a lot lately.”

 

“John, I  _ need _ you.”

 

“What?” he appeared around the corner and his eyes fixed on my cock which twitched at the sight of him, “oh, shit. I didn't… how long have you been…”

 

“Since before you got home. You didn't even kiss me ‘hi,’ loser.”

 

“Damn, baby, I'm sorry.” he crouched beside me and ran his fingers through my hair. 

 

John kissed me and I sucked his lip into my mouth. His hand nudged mine away from my stiff cock and began to stroke it. I moaned into his mouth. He lips left mine and my cock was suddenly surrounded in wet heat. I moaned and plunged my hands into his hair. His hand traveled up underneath my shirt and played at my chest. I breathed out his name and rubbed his shoulders grateful to finally have his attention. 

 

My eyes closed as I focused on his attention. His tongue flattened against my tip before he swallowed me whole again. I let out a whimper at the sound of him choking just enough in taking all of me. He moaned around my cock and the vibrations traveled up my spine. 

 

His lips were at the base of my cock, free hand gripping my balls, tongue pulsing against the underside. I felt my stomach clench, then my toes curl, and finally I was coming in his mouth. He moaned and swallowed greedily. He popped off and wiped his mouth. 

 

“Better?” He asked.

 

“So much better.” I agreed.

 

“Okay, so now can I make dinner?”

 

I shrugged and yawned, “I guess so.”

 

“You’re insufferable.” He winked.

 

I put my softening cock back into my pants and made it through the rest of the brief while he made dinner, humming to himself. 

 

“What are you making?” I asked.

 

“Soup.”

 

“While it cooks you wanna go to the bedroom?”

 

He giggled, “I could probably be persuaded, yeah.” 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a standalone bit of Revolutionary Era lovin'. Thank you so much for reading. Comments make my world go 'round!

“Ham?” His voice cut through my thoughts. 

 

“Yes?” I finished the line over the letter that I was working on.

 

“Did you hear me?” He leaned over the desk.

 

“No, my apologies.” 

 

“I suggested that we bed down for the night. We move again at dawn. Rest would benefit us.” 

 

I looked at him in the dying candle; he was fair, his hair tied back save for an errant curl, still in full dress, the hint of a grin on his full lips, the colour of swollen, ripe berries. 

 

“I suppose that is wise.” I conceded. 

 

We moved through the house that his excellency’s military family was lodging in to the quarters provided to us. Each of the aides were paired in rooms, Laurens and I were again partnered. Our friendship and matching work ethics making us a good pair, even though proximity had been to blame for my taking notice of his finer features.

 

I packed my things away to prepare for the ride at daybreak and dressed down to my stockings and hunting shirt, neatly draping my other clothing for the morning while Laurens did the same. I became aware of the cold that had crept into the countryside over the last few days, knowing that we were in for a hard winter. I was distracted at the sight of the arch of his back while he bent to pull off his breeches and licked my lips before shaking my head of the thoughts. The thoughts which had become so intrusive over the last few weeks. The thoughts that were far too impure for someone of my rank to possess. 

 

The war was bloodthirsty and companionship was vital to morale. The camaraderie of war is intimacy in and of itself, but a type of intimacy that one should not confuse for another. Intimacy, or the mockery of intimacy, that was so prevalent back home in my now waterlogged little island. That island was a refuge for miscreants and a safe haven for sinners, bearing witness to indecency could hardly make me blush, but what about fantasizing the imitation of such indecency? Certainly that was a new sin of its own.

 

“Ham, dearest, you seem far away tonight. What weighs on your brow?” Laurens was already in his bed roll on our cramped, shared cot, he beckoned me with his light eyes, flecks of gold glittering in the candlelight.

 

I swallowed hard to answer him, “I… I’m unsure precisely what plagues me.”  

 

“Come to bed. Ease your mind.” He looked at the space beside him. 

 

I slid into my bedroll next to him and sighed at the softness of the grass bound in the cot underneath us, feeling the tightness in my back carried from long days bent over a writing desk and an equal amount of days on horseback loosen. 

 

“Good night, dear boy.” I acknowledged him and did my best to ignore the inviting heat of his body beside me.

 

“Hmm,” he sighed, fatigue in his voice, “good night, Ham.”  

 

I rolled away from him and drew the blanket tighter over me, refusing to accept the shivers in my bones. He was behind me, rolled to his side, echoing my position. He pressed his body against me, warm enough I thought that I might burn.

 

I breathed out a laugh, “I hardly think that it is so cold so soon, Jackie.” 

 

“I’m hardly concerned by the cold.” 

 

His breath was hot in my ear, I shivered.

 

“Perhaps it is you who should be concerned by the cold.” His soft laughter was the chime of a delicate silver bell. 

 

“If that is not the cause, then what is?” I asked. 

 

“Desire.” 

 

“You speak foolishness to me, my friend.” 

 

“Why do you suggest this?” 

 

“Desire?”

 

His arm draped over my waist and my breath caught. I liked being so close to him. I liked feeling the warmth of him against me, the beat of his heart vibrating my spine like a catgut. I kept myself rigid, not wanting to accept his touch. 

 

“Certainly. You desire me as well, Ham. I see the way you steal glances, the way that you turn in toward me when you sleep. I desire nothing more than to know you in the way that the ladies you sneak around behind his excellency’s back know you.”

 

In the darkness I felt heat and colour crawl across my cheeks. 

 

“And what if I do steal glances? Are they stolen if offered for free?” 

 

He giggled into my back, “perhaps they are not free, they are purchased on the systems of credit that you so admire from the tomes that you ignore me for.” 

 

His lips hovered over my shoulder while he spoke, I worked hard to keep my voice even, “and this credit you speak of. How is it earned?”

 

“In… bliss and adulation.”

 

“Adulation I can concede to, but bliss, my dearest, is that not better saved for our lady suitors? I am sure you take many… as do I… but certainly someone with endowments comparable to my own has no issue finding a fair girl?” 

 

“No issues, but scant desire to match,” he chuckled softly, “you would wish to make yourself familiar with the similarity of our endowments?”

 

“Scant desire? How is that?” I chose to ignore the rest of his speech.

 

“They are too delicate, men are not fragile, yet their beauty is limitless, hard in the spots where women are soft, harder even still in others. Women are fair, but I contend that I have seen men even fairer. I’ll reiterate... I see how you look at me, Alexander.”

 

I had battled thoughts not unlike his since boyhood, seeing so much debauchery on my island made it seem less like a sin, less like a crime. I enjoyed keeping the company of women, though. Perhaps the sinful fantasies that aroused my intrigue were less unique to my island than I had presumed. 

 

His hand crept over my chest while I pondered this and stroked the bud of my nipple. I gasped first in shock, then in horror, then in intrigue. Denying the flicker that it drew in my belly, I shoved his hand away.

 

“What, that you would bed me as a woman to supplicate the absence of your natural desires?” 

 

He coiled his fingers around my own and ignored the harshness of my words toward him, “my summation is that you are only incensed by the shame in your own pleasure.” 

 

I thought about it, “and…”

 

“Let me incense you in a refreshing manner.”

 

“But, John,” I stopped him. 

 

“Alexander, give in. You’re the closest friend I’ve got, but, Alex, you’re so much more, too. You’re beautiful and intelligent beyond compare, your talents in the artillery will go down in history. I admire you, I love you, dear boy, as would any wise man… wise woman. Think not of the future now, think only of this moment.”

 

“You shower me with praise and stroke my ego.” I rolled to face him. 

 

His face in the moonlight was bewitching, it split in two with a grin, “I’ll keep more than your ego stroked.” 

 

“I doubt this not one bit.” I smiled and let him wrap his arms around me the way that I had done with pretty girls and kiss me. 

 

His kiss was soft and gentle, but so unique from any before it, and I was certain, any after it. His hands ran over my body and again back to my nipples, this time his hand reached under the hem of my shirt, over my bare hip. He rolled and pinched them until they grew hard between his fingers. I couldn’t stop the pants that spilled from my heaving chest below his hand. 

 

“This is…” I shook my head. 

 

“An erogenous area of the human body.” He answered me and then quieted me from words I hadn’t had a chance to speak with his kiss. 

 

I opened my mouth to him, desperation filling me, swelling me. He licked into my waiting mouth and I immeshed my tongue with his. His fingers still maintained their efforts and left me at attention and writhing. 

 

“Jack, dear boy, what are you doing to me?” 

 

“Pleasuring you, my love. No longer concerned with demonstrating the restraint I’ve had to during the whole of our assignment.” 

 

“The duration?” I looked up at him, still aware of my face twisting with pleasure. 

 

“Every moment.” He agreed and kissed me once more, his fingers trailed down from my chest to my hip and finally to my manhood. 

 

“What does our dear Marquis know of this?” I hissed in a whisper as his finger wrapped around the shaft.

 

“It is when I’m touching you that you wonder about this?” He smirked. 

 

“I don’t mean… I simply, is he privy to your… deviance?”

 

“Deviance? I favour the word preference. You’ll be better served if you delay thoughts of our Marquis and of fire and brimstone.”

 

“Does anyone know?” my eyes rolled up in their sockets as I panted out the words.

 

“Only you and I.” He assured me gently, his words echoed in his hot breath ghosting at my throat.

 

“Laurens,” I mumbled into his mouth, my legs tightening at his touch as he stroked me. 

 

“Alexander, the beauty of the reality of this moment far surpasses any of my imaginings.” He kissed my neck. 

 

“I’ve wanted you.” I confirmed.

 

“I know.”

 

“You’re cocky.” 

 

“I know.” He ground his body against me, letting me feel his own arousal. 

 

I gasped at the feeling of his member and he pulled at my hunting shirt, I quickly shucked it and his hand left me only long enough to remove his own. 

 

He changed pace and I wondered if he was touching me as he touched himself… or other men. Light and colour filled my mind, so vibrant that I feared that they would spring from my eyes should I find the will to lift my lids. There was only the slick sound of him stroking me filling the room, soon coupled with my gasps of pleasure.

 

“John,” I whispered and dropped my head to his shoulder. 

 

“It’s alright, dearest.” He soothed, not breaking stride.

 

I spurted into his hand, my eyes shut tighty. It took everything within me not to cry for him. 

 

“Perhaps I should follow you into artillery since it appears I know my way around ranged weapons.” He lapped at the mess on my chest with his tongue and put my hand to his own stiffness. 

 

I touched him as if it were my own, correction in my belief that they were of similar stature. John wrapped his arms around me again and whispered endearments into my ear, nipping intermittently at the soft flesh there. 

 

“Alexander, your touch is even better than my hopes.” 

 

“It is my sole drive in this moment to make you feel as you’ve made me.” 

 

He hitched a leg over my own and sighed heavily as I stroked him faster. 

 

“Alex,” he gripped my shoulder hard. 

 

“Yes, John, yes.” I crooned to him, realizing just how badly and for how long I’d wanted to do this.

 

“Oh, Alexander, please, for God’s sakes.” He stared into my eyes, a deeper connection than I’d had with any woman. 

 

He spent himself in my hand and sighed. 

 

“Better than I imagined. Quicker, too.” He kissed my cheek. 

 

“Only you and I should be aware of what has transpired tonight.” I bit down on my lip, shame burning my cheeks.

 

“And what will happen tomorrow.” He smirked.

 

“Jack, we won’t have privacy.” 

 

“Then it would serve us to be quiet.”

 

“Do you… is it really your intent for this to continue?” 

 

“I fear that my affections for you will only extinguish in death.” 

 

I rested my hand against his abdomen, “and perhaps not even then.” 

 

“Perhaps not even then.” 

 

“You are aware that we must be discreet, yes?” 

 

“I am. You are aware that I believe in throwing caution to the wind?” He snickered.

 

“I am.” 

 

“You are not one to practice caution either. It is not me that we have mourned only to arrive in the midst of lamentation as if Christ himself, resurrected, had appeared soggy in our doorway. Just let this be enjoyable, Ham. My boy we are all busy dying, starving, scratching with pests, a little drink and a little sex is what this life provides to keep us true to course for this land and our freedom.” 

 

“I’m not scratching with pests. I keep my hair powdered and myself clean.” I said proudly. 

 

“Well, yes… as do I… but our military as a whole. The least we could do is imbibe in the pleasures provided for us.” 

 

“Then silence yourself and let me enjoy you. Is it not so that prattling on is  _ my  _ domain?” 

 

He smirked and tucked me against his breast, I nuzzled my face into the space where his shoulder met his chest and smelled the blend of caustic soap and his musk and felt myself settle.

 

“Good night, dearest.”

 

“Our Marquis will know.” I decided after a quiet moment.

 

“See, now you have reclaimed your title as the prattler. Rest easily knowing that you shall not be dethroned by me. How will he know? You will tell him?” 

 

“He simply will. He’ll infer it. I’ve watched you lie in alehouses over cards, you keep nothing concealed long, the flush of your cheeks, the twitch of your mouth betrays you.”

 

“It’s the ale that flushes me. You taking note of this is proof of your affections for me.” 

 

“As if me lying in your arms was not proof enough. Back to the matter at hand.” 

 

“If he knows, let him know. The French are notorious for… being all manner of folk. He will understand.”

 

“He will detest us.” 

 

“And what is to detest?” 

 

I sighed, combatting my desire to kiss John while he held me and the feelings of wretchedness at my desires. 

 

“Our relations.” 

 

“Let me pull your mind from such matters.”

 

“How do you intend to-” he left my side and was between my legs at once, taking my length between his lips. His lips that liked to smirk, that were full and as soft as I’d imagined.

 

As he hollowed his cheeks with suction I keened and gripped handfuls of his curls. Ladies never quite knew how to behave in this act, but John was skilled, no doubt emulating the actions that brought him the most satisfaction. I ran my toes over his thigh, enjoying the closeness. 

 

“John.” I whispered, feeling my legs tremble as though I’d been over a saddle for the day and with it many miles. 

 

He continued but looked up at me through his thick lashes. I pulled tighter at his hair and released the breath I didn’t know was being held and released with that breath, myself entirely. John slunk back up the creaking cot and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. 

 

“You taste like berries.” 

 

“Berries? I can’t imagine that there is merit in that statement.” 

 

“It’s true, plump, bittersweet blackberries on a vine.” 

 

I thought once more of his lips and watched as he licked me from them. Berries. 

 

“I generally bear more stamina.”

 

“But I reduce you.” He smiled. 

 

“You do.” 

 

“Good night, Jack.”

 

“Good night, dear boy. It pleases me that our affections are known.” 

 

“As you please me?”

 

“So, too, do I find pleasure.” He kissed the tip of my nose and allowed his eyes to flutter peacefully shut. 


	9. Chapter 9

It was so wet, I gasped, my eyes stung. It was raining sideways and I couldn’t see anything, my clothing weighed me down, I kicked my shoes off to swim better. I spluttered, trying to catch a breath. My brother was nowhere to be seen, I looked harder in the mist of rain on the ocean and went under again. Nowhere. Kicking, I made it to the surface again and held fast to furniture that floated near me, my lungs ached from the water residing inside them. My face was perpetually wet and stung from the salt and the gales of wind. I coughed to try and expel any of the water swallowed inside me.  _ James…  _ I kicked my bare feet through the water, they were tangled with refuse below the surface.  _ Have to find James.  _

 

John was in the distance on a small boat, his curls haloed in golden light, he called to me, his voice the only placid thing in the midst of so much horror, “Alex, Alexander, babe, come back to me.” 

 

I shook my head and tried to scream back to him that I had to find my brother first. Nothing came out but choked sobs. I have to find him. I have to find him. I have to find him! 

 

“Alex, baby, I’m here.” John crouched in his boat, visoring his eyes with his hand to look at me, he was dry, still golden, angelic. He reached out to offer me his hand.

 

He was the angel coming to take me away. Away from my brother. I was dying and he was coming to take me.  To take me back to my mother. 

 

“No! No, I can’t. I have to find my brother!”

 

_ James… _

 

“Alexander, babe, come on, I’ve got you.” He took my hand. 

 

I choked and sat up. Dark, dry, bed, John. I coughed again, sure that I would rid myself of sea water. My legs were wrapped fitfully in the blankets of our bed. John sat next to me, illuminated in the golden light from the lamp on his bedside table and brushed my hair back from my tear-sticky face. I gripped him for dear life, clinging to him was the same as clinging to reality.

 

“I didn’t find him! John, I didn’t, I didn’t, I didn’t.” I sobbed into his chest, barely catching my breath.

 

John held me against him and rocked me like a child, “shh, it’s okay, it’s okay. Five things you see?” 

 

“No. I didn’t find him, it’s my fault. He’s gone and it’s my fault. He’s gone. I didn’t. I didn’t.” I cried, letting my hair fall over my face. 

 

“Alexander, five things, love.” John gripped my shoulders and made me look at him. 

 

I glared at him and looked around our dark bedroom, “clock, p-pill bottle, you, our w-wedding picture, bottle of water.” 

 

He wiped my face with a tissue, “that’s excellent, lover, four things you feel.”

 

“John, no,” I tried to protest.

 

“Four things.”

 

“Blankets are hot, your hand on on on my back, soft bed, t-shirt.”

 

“Good, baby, three sounds.”

 

“Talking, city, drip, the faucet’s dripping again, dripping water.”

 

“Okay, that’s good, two smells.” He rubbed my back and I tried to match the pace of my breathing with the motion, still convinced my lungs were filled with seawater.

 

“Your O-old Spice and laundry detergent.”

 

“Beautiful. Taste?”

 

I searched his eyes frantically, I didn’t taste anything. I kissed him, “c-cinnamon.” I said breaking away from him. 

 

“You did such a good job. Feel better?” 

 

I panted, “a little bit.”

 

He continued to hold me, rocking me in his arms, “that one was bad,” he yawned and reached for the pill bottle on my nightstand.

 

“I’m sorry.” I hid my face in my hands and felt how sloppy I was.

 

He shook out two pills and handed them to me, “don’t ever apologize, Alex. You survived horrible things. You are entitled to your feelings, they are valid. I love you, you’re good.” 

 

I swallowed them dry along with his words and tried to believe him, “fuck me, John?” 

 

He pursed his lips and looked at me under worried brows, “Alex, we’ve talked about this.” 

 

“Please?” Tears hiccupped my voice, I was desperate for him.

 

“Alex,” he started again, “you know as well as I do that you use sex to dissociate from your panic. It’s not healthy, babe.” 

 

_ He didn’t want me; didn’t want broken, ugly, useless me.  _ I peered at him through my lashes and spat out my own self loathing, “you’re not my fucking therapist, John. I’m not one of your patients.” 

 

I could see him try not to be hurt, forcing a smile, “and thank God for that. I get to be your husband instead.” 

 

“Then why don’t you want me?” I pawed the tears away from my face, hating the water, the wetness, the salt.

 

“Alex, I want you, but when you’re like this you don’t want me, you want to not feel. I don’t like feeling used any more than you like feeling unwanted.”

 

I didn’t believe him, the pit of my anxiety spoke in my voice inside my head, filling up the space in my skull,  _ he doesn’t want you. How could he? Useless. Pathetic, so pathetic. So worthless. Nobody wants you.  _

 

I cried harder, wanting my mind to be silent. John wrapped his arms around me and sighed. 

 

“Leave me.” I pleaded. 

 

“I never will.” 

 

“Leave me, you can’t fix me. I know you thought you could. Like, you meet this guy in a club and you like him and you go home with him and you think it’s great, he writes books, you’re a therapist and you think you can be this power couple, but then you realize just how fucked up he is and that you can’t fix him. You can’t fix him. You can’t fix me. It’s your job and you can’t do it. So leave me.”

 

“It’s not my job to fix you, it’s my job to love you. I’m not your therapist, I’m your husband. I do that job well. I love you with all that I am, Alex.”

 

“I am cancer, leave me, John.” 

 

“You are not cancer, you’re my Alex, you’re my love, I’m never going anywhere.” I heard him sniff. 

 

“I’m sorry I’m so broken. You’re-you’re a therapist, you see crazy people every day. Of course you don’t want to come home to one. Leave me.”

 

“You’re not broken.” His voice was so tender, his arms around me so gentle.

 

“Yes, I am! I just… I’m not yours to fix.” I sounded hollow, empty.

 

He seethed, finally angry, “I don’t want you  _ fixed! _ Goddammit, Alexander! I love you exactly as you are, I loved you the moment I saw you, I don’t mind that you struggle, so do I! Sure, it’s different, but everyone has struggles. We are the power couple, we have the dream life, so you have some mess. Who doesn’t have mess? I love you.”

 

I bent over myself and sobbed, clutching the covers to my chest, I cried openly, cried like a child.

 

John’s hand was at my back again, his voice was tender and close to my ear, “it’s been awhile since one of these happened. It’s okay. We’ve talked about this, they’ll come back now and then, we’ll get you through them. It’s not as bad as it used to be.” 

 

“I’m sorry.” I sniffled. 

 

“Shh… You’re fine. I’m sorry, too.” 

 

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” I bent up to kiss him,  _ more cinnamon _ . He relaxed into the kiss and I felt myself relax slightly, too. I reached between us and stroked him, he grew hard quickly at my touch, grunting and gasping into my hand. 

 

“Can we?” I pleaded.

 

“Are you sure you want this?” He stared into my eyes and I nodded, brushing my stringy hair out of my face. 

 

“I want you, John.” 

 

He slowly peeled our clothing away, tenderly kissing bare skin as he made it available, doting on me. He teased my entrance and took time readying me. One finger, one knuckle at a time, so delicate, so gentle. Opening me like I had the fragility of a China doll. He always took extra time when I was like this, unwilling to give me the satisfaction of pain, still trying to convince me of the lie that I didn’t deserve it. That I especially didn’t deserve it from him. I hurt him so often, so much, the least he could do was hurt me back. 

 

“You ready, babe?” He asked, poising himself over me.

 

I nodded and started to flip over, he stopped me.

 

“No, no, just like this. I want to see you… see those pretty eyes.” John told me. 

 

“No, I’m hideous, my face is a goddamn mess.” I coughed again, still sure of the seawater in my airways.

 

He held my chin and kissed me, “you’re not hideous, you’re beautiful, you’re my husband and I love you.”

 

My cheeks grew damp again, “I love you, too.” 

 

He wiped my tears and leaned back on his heels, “Alex, maybe this just isn’t a good night.” 

 

“No,” I snapped, “I mean, please, I… Please, John. I need you. Please, baby, please. I want you.”

 

“Okay.” He looked down at me pensively. 

 

John lined himself up and entered me slowly, the lube taking almost all the sting away. 

 

“Hard.” I begged.

 

“Shh…” He petted my hair and rocked slowly, taking a deep breath and sighing. 

 

I looked up at him as he stroked my cheek and moved in me, tears still falling. I gripped his arms, trying to convince him to speed up, to hurt me, to treat me like I deserved. Instead, he pried my fingers away and kissed my knuckles one by one. 

 

My eyes fell shut, my world pulsing with colours with each of his thrusts. Empty, black, echoing, just feeling the friction of each movement. The sounds of my breathing rushed into my ears, flooding my consciousness.  

 

“Alex,” I could hear him far away through the rush of my breaths and ignored him, safe alone in the blackness. I knew he’d be upset that I was gone.

 

“Alexander, love, come back.” The colours of his voice swirled in the blackness like spectres. I pushed them away and sat in the blackness by myself.

 

“Alex, baby, look at me.” 

 

James was next to me in the blackness. He looked at me, his skin blue and wrinkled, bloated and waterlogged,  _ don’t do this to John, he loves you.  _ I gasped and opened my eyes, John was closer to me, his lips on my neck, still whispering to me to come back to him. 

 

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” I said again, reaching up to smooth his curls away. 

 

He pulled away from my neck and looked into my eyes again. I stared up, meeting his gaze. 

 

“There he is. You’re okay.” John whispered, that smirk that made me love him playing at his lips. 

 

I gasped as he changed pace, speeding up just enough to let me know he was close and I wondered how long I’d been gone. I rocked back against him faster, meeting each thrust and came hot between us. He followed quickly after, a breathless chuckle on his lips, he pressed his sweaty forehead against my chest and I tipped his chin up to kiss his brow. Sometimes wet and salty was my favourite thing, I was aware of my fickleness. 

 

He giggled at me as I licked my lips and pulled out, leaving our mess, just wanting the comfort of one another. I snuggled against him, his sweat slick skin growing cold in the air, I shivered and he wrapped me in our blankets. I felt filthy, from my crying and from our sex, and from the hand I’d been dealt in life, but in this moment I just felt him. 

 

“I’m really tired.” I told him. 

 

“It’s okay.” John assured me, holding me tightly.

 

“I’m really heavy.”

 

“It’s the meds.” 

 

“I’m really sorry.” 

 

“Don’t ever be.” He yawned and squeezed me tighter still. 

 

“How come I’m still like this?” 

 

“It’s trauma, babe. It’s trauma.”

 

I sighed, feeling the medication smooth me out, “will I get better?” 

 

“You’re much better than you were even last year, way better than five years ago.”

 

“You really don’t hate me?” 

 

“Not even in the slightest.” He kissed my temple.

 


End file.
